I greatly admire women who start with almost nothing and build multi-million dollar businesses. There have been more than a few of them in the beauty business: Madam C J Walker, Helena Rubenstein, Elizabeth Arden, and Estee Lauder.
Some of their stories are fascinating. Canadian Elizabeth Arden, born Florence Nightingale Gardner, got the name of her company from a partner, Elizabeth Hubbard, and Tennyson’s poem, “Enoch Arden.” She sold a lipstick during World War II, Montezuma Red, that matched the red on the uniforms of women serving in the armed forces. She was briefly married to a Russian prince.
Helena Rubinstein was born Chaja Rubinstein in Krakow (the house where she was born still stands.) She was an industrial cosmetics chemist and moved to Australia (having no money and speaking no English) in 1902 when she was in her 30s. As she became successful she moved to Paris with her husband who ran the small publishing house that published Lady Chatterly’s Lover. She famously dismissed Marcel Proust: “He smelt of mothballs.” Her vicious rivalry with Elizabeth Arden is legendary. She was married at one time to a Russian prince.
Madam C J Walker was born Sarah Breedlove in 1867 Louisiana, the daughter of freed slaves. She was the first woman to become a millionaire by her own achievements and she mentored other women who wanted to start businesses. She donated much of the money to save the Anacostia, DC, house of Frederick Douglass. She did not marry a Russian prince.
And so we come to Estee Lauder. She was born in 1906. Or 1902 or 1908. Accounts vary. She was named Josephine Esther Mentzer. She was to have been named Esty after an aunt but the clerk recorded the name wrong. Or not. Accounts vary. Her parents were wealthy Hungarian immigrants. Or poor Hungarian immigrants who ran a small hardware store. Accounts vary. She worked with her uncle to sell a skin cream he developed. Or she stole the formula from him. Accounts vary. She was without doubt a very successful saleswoman who believed that putting her creams and makeup on her customers’ faces herself created a bond between them. She pioneered the “free sample with purchase,” a technique the company uses today. She did not marry a Russian prince but she did marry Leonard Lauder twice.
Throughout her life, Estee Lauder was very cagey about her age, her youth, her family, the origins of her company, and much more. She was, like the other women cosmeticians, a social climber and she was very successful at it. Her family still runs the firm, and many other cosmetic and perfume brands that they have bought over the years: Aramis, Aveda, Bobbi Brown, Donna Karan, Kate Spade, MAC, Michael Kors, Missoni, Origins, Tommy Hilfiger, Tom Ford.
Her son, Ronald Lauder, who apparently isn’t very good at business, collects art from the Vienna Succession and founded the Neue Gallerie in New York, which owns the famous Klimt portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer. His significant support for Israel led to a short-lived and unsuccessful boycott of the company by pro-Palestinian activists.
Estee Lauder died in 2004, a date we are sure of.
Estee Lauder: Beyond the Magic is an expose in the Kitty Kelley style by Lee Israel that fails because its “revelations” were nearly as questionable as the rumored details of Estee Lauder’s life. No steamy love affairs, no tangles with the law, no unethical business practices, no marriages to Russian nobility.
Estee: A Success Story, written by Estee Lauder herself was published at about the same time as the Lee Israel book (1985) in order to blunt interest in that book. Less objective about Mrs Lauder’s age, family background, and other details of her life, it reads much like a company history written by a PR firm. There is very little of the actual woman in it.
Neither book is worth reading unless you have been reading a string of books about successful women in the cosmetic industry and need to complete the set. Estee Lauder did not lead a particularly interesting life; her business was her life. And neither book gives significant hints about what made her so phenomenally successful – except for a lot of hard work.
2011 Nos 80 and 81